Demons of Time
by Silverstar
Summary: Halloween Fic. Brotherly rivalry led to a dare, and that led to haunted mansion. And now he's trapped in time with his brother held captive by whatever the dark figure with red eyes was. Halloween had never been this real before... Two-Shot
1. Chapter 1

_**Hey guys! So this is my Halloween fic this for you. Hopefully you like it, but it ended up kinda long so I split it into two parts. I'll publish Part 2 tomorrow morning. Anyway, leave a review so I know what you think.**_

* * *

"Okay then, I bet you thirty dollars that you wouldn't last the night there."

"Oh really?"

"Yep. Thirty dollars kid, think fast."

"You're on!"

"Stop encouraging them, Virg." Scott warned, glancing over at his brothers. The night before Halloween, and even though it didn't hold quite as much attraction as when they were younger, around Alan's age, it was still fun to visit the real haunted places. Normally late at night, since Scott had got his driving licence.

Sitting by the fireplace, which was lit since their grandmother was staying with them, and there was a storm outside which had brought down all power lines, Alan was attempting to pretend he wasn't listening to his older brothers' conversation. Now he was eleven, he personally thought he should be allowed to go with his siblings on the creepy death-ridden adventures they all disappeared on at Halloween.

This year, now Gordon was fourteen, he was technically old enough to go with them. The red haired prankster had been waiting eagerly for the night since his birthday that February, and now it was so close, he'd been listening to Virgil's supposedly 'true stories.' Not that he believed them of course - ghosts weren't real; he'd known that since he was nine and had realised the ghost at the Haunted House that was set up every year was actually just a man in a white sheet. He hadn't known whether to be annoyed or relieved.

"Hey, Dad's gonna be home late tonight, the storms have brought one of the trees down over the main road and the traffic's being diverted down the old country lanes, where there's more flooding," John called from the doorway, where he was leaning against the doorframe, the mobile they were using, because the power was off, pressed to his ear.

Scott frowned. "Tell him to drive safely. We're all cool here."

"Okay...yeah, Dad did you hear that?" John called into his mobile, and laughed. "Yeah, he says to tell Virgil not to eat all the marshmallows." He called over to his siblings, with a pointed look at said brother.

Virgil glared at him. "I do not eat that much!" He muttered indignantly.

"Yeah, right."

"Shut up Gordon."

"We have marshmallows?" Alan gave up pretending he wasn't listening, sitting up and glancing over at his older brother for confirmation.

Scott grinned. "Yep Sprout, we have marshmallows. Or rather Grandma does, and we're going to eat them."

"Cool." He tossed the school books aside, and lay on the rug staring into the flickering flames of the fire. It wasn't as bad having no electricity as he'd thought it would be. It had been a bit of a shock when he'd been in the middle of using his laptop which he'd been given for Christmas the year before, and then everything had gone black.

Of course, it had been pretty funny to hear the girlish scream echo up from the garage as everything went black in there. Virgil was adamantly denying that he'd screamed. Alan knew better - plus he had three brothers who could back him up.

"See you later then." John tossed the mobile onto the sofa, and sat down with his back against the wall. "So what's going on?"

Gordon grinned impishly at him. "I am going to bravely enter the realm of darkness and conquer the dead."

John blinked at him. "Right, okay. Scott, translate please."

"Virgil has decided it would be great fun to set a challenge for his younger brother."

"Oh for crying out loud, just tell me what's happened." John grabbed one of the chocolate bars that were lying on the table and raised an eyebrow at his brothers.

Alan glanced across at him. "Virgil bet Gordon that he wouldn't be able to spend a night in one of the haunted places you guys know about. Bet him thirty dollars as well. So Gords has agreed."

John shrugged. "Sounds fun. My money's still on Virgil though. You wouldn't be able to spend an entire night in that place, sorry Gordon."

"What? Why is it you guys have no faith in me?"

"Because they didn't last five minutes, and I came running out a couple of moments later as well. If we couldn't cope with it, then I'm sure you won't be able to." Scott told him. "Oh hey Grandma."

"Epic! Marshmallows!" Alan yelled, leaping to his feet. Virgil stuck out his foot sending the younger boy tumbling to the floor again.

"My marshmallows."

Alan shot him a glare. "Whatever."

Twenty minutes later, and the marshmallows were gone.

"So where is the place you were talking about?" Gordon asked, kicking off his trainers from when he'd had to go outside to collect more of the firewood from the barn. The light of the candles was casting flickering shadows across the carpet, and the sound of the wind howling outside made the lounge seem quite cosy.

"Oh, just this old haunted house. Nothing much." Virgil told him, exchanging a look with Scott. "But you won't cope."

"Oh ha ha, very funny. Yeah I will."

Virgil shrugged. "Your choice."

"Oh come on! You bet me thirty dollars. No way am I turning that down." Gordon told him, glancing over his shoulder at his older brother.

"One day to prepare. You can choose a team-mate. Oh, and get anything you think you'll need, because you'll be camping there for one night." Virgil told him, smirking.

"And you will have a mobile on which you will be calling me if anything happens. Anything. Got it? That's my rule." Scott added.

Gordon rolled his eyes. "What do you think happens when you're at Yale?"

"I dread to think. Gordon, pick up your trainers before Grandma comes back. Talking of which, where's John got to?"

"Choosing a horror film from your collection," Virgil told him, grabbing one of Alan's discarded school books and raising his eyebrows. "Seriously? This is the type of stuff they're giving you for homework? I thought you were eleven, not Gordon's age?"

"Told you the teachers were evil. Now will you let me change schools?"

"Nice try kiddo, but I'm not buying it. Just because you don't like someone doesn't mean you're allowed to just run away from the problems."

"Sco-ott." Alan whined. "It's Halloween. Almost. In just under twenty-four hours. Stop giving me pep-talks."

"Alright, sorry. Gordon, shoes."

Gordon gave a dramatic sigh before kicking the trainers out of sight and under the sofa, leaving a trail of dry mud behind them. "Happy?"

"Pick them up and put them in your room. Then I'll be happy."

"Stop nagging! I'm going, alright?"

Scott grinned. "Yeah, exactly. Meaning I get the last chocolate bar."

"How come?" Virgil was suddenly wide awake at the mention of food, and Alan watched his brothers squabbling for a few moments in amusement before waving his hand in the air.

"Oh check it out! I get the last chocolate bar instead!"

Scott folded his arms and slouched back in his chair. "It was worth a try."

"So," Gordon called, running back into the room, and skidding on the carpet, tripping over and landing beside his younger brother by the fire. "Are you just going to drop us off at the haunted house place?"

"Yeah. Then we'll go into town and wait for your phone call that you want to be collected." Virgil added.

Gordon glared at him, without looking up as John leapt onto the sofa, and reached for the TV remote, switching on the horror movie. "Oh sure Virg. You just wait and see."

* * *

"Alan."

The voice was vaguely familiar, like he knew its owner from somewhere. Closing his eyes, he buried his face in his pillows and tried to ignore it. It was cold outside, and he could hear the rain pounding against the glass of his window. There was no way he was getting out of bed for some random person.

"Alan."

He knew the voice quite well actually. If only he could put a name to it. He was slowly drifting back to consciousness, and he didn't want to.

"Alan! Seriously kiddo, how long does it take for you to wake up?"

Oh, yes, he knew the voice now. The irritating little voice that belonged to someone very familiar…

There was muffled laughter. "You're worse than Virg, and he takes some beating!"

"Go away Gordon!" He mumbled, and then rolled over to face the wall, ignoring his brother. There was a scuffling sound and then a dead weight landed on top of him.

"Hey! Get off!"

"I need your help with something!" Gordon hissed, his green eyes shining in the darkness. Leaning across, he tapped the screen of his mobile, activating the inbuilt light so that he could see his younger brother.

"What? Last time you said that, I got grounded and missed the running event at school."

"You are way too suspicious kiddo. And no. It's nothing like that. I want you to be my team-mate for the haunted house night on Halloween tomorrow."

"Wait, what?" Alan attempted to sit up. "Dude, you're fourteen. Get off me - you weigh a ton."

"Right, sorry." Gordon sat on the floor, and glanced up at him. "Help me? Pretty please?"

"What's in it for me?"

"For an eleven year old, you are way too good at this negotiating stuff. I'll give you half the money."

"Not good enough. New phone upgrade would do it. Get me the new iPhone edition."

"Would a laptop do it? They're less expensive."

Alan patted the lid of his laptop. "Nope, I'm quite happy with this girl thank you very much."

"Uh...oh fine. Whatever. New iPhone, that's cool. But Scott had John will start smothering me if I take them and Virgil is the one who came up with the bet in the first place."

"So...what's the story with this place we're going to?" Now wide awake, Alan leapt out of bed and shivered, grabbing his jumper.

"I was hoping you could tell me that." Gordon tilted his head to indicate the laptop, grinning at his sibling. "Time to earn ya keep tech-geek."

* * *

"Okay. And you're telling me that you guys got freaked out by this place?" Gordon folded his arms, raising his eyebrows at his brothers. Behind him, the backdrop of the massive grey building, with clouded dusty windows, and overgrown plants looked like the set of a Hollywood horror movie.

"Yep. You just wait 'till it gets dark, squirt, then you'll see." Virgil told him, throwing the torch at his copper haired sibling.

"This place is creepy." Alan muttered.

Gordon gave him an are you even freaking kidding me look, as he stamped on an ant. "Seriously? Look at it – it's falling apart." He kicked at the crumbling stone wall and jumped backwards as several parts of it came away and landed on the ground near his feet. "See? Nothing to be scared of."

"In other words, you're just making sure I don't back out." Alan shot back, and then grinned. "I'm just kidding Gords. This is gonna be epic!"

"Gordon." Scott passed him the backpack. "I meant what I said about the mobile, okay? The slightest sign of trouble and you're to call me. Even if it's just because you're scared…"

Alan folded his arms and sulked, noticing that his oldest brother cast a pointed look towards him at that particular sentence. "I won't get scared." He told him moodily.

"'Course you won't Sprout," John replied cheerfully, from his position leaning against the side of the car, his ankles crossed. The mobile started ringing again, and he jumped, slapping his pockets in an attempt to find it.

"Right, well, we're off. Have fun!" Virgil called over his shoulder, trying to hide his smirk as he headed back towards the car.

"Alright." Scott sighed. "Don't so anything stupid Gordon."

Alan watched, laughing as his copper haired sibling rolled his eyes, and stomped off amongst the old stone wall ruins and long grass, barely visible. Picking up the backpack, and swinging it over his shoulder, Alan went to go after him, when a hand on his shoulder made him stop.

"Allie, you don't have to go, you know that right?"

"Scotty," He whined. "I'm eleven."

Scott laughed. "I forgot. Okay then, just don't get hurt. And make sure Gordon doesn't accidentally trip down any stairs."

"I will!" He called over his shoulder, bounding over the stones, and towards his brother. Gordon was perched on top of the wall where it was relatively stable, swinging his legs back and forth as he took in the sight of the house.

"See you tomorrow!" Scott yelled after him, before heading back to the car, where silence fell for a couple of moments.

"Um…sorry?" Virgil began.

"You knew that Gordon wouldn't back down. You also must have guessed he'd ask Alan to go with him."

"I didn't know for certain!"

"You must have had a suspicion!"

Virgil slouched in his seat, glaring at his trainers, and picking at a loose thread in the car seat.

"And stop damaging my car, or Dad will kill me."

* * *

"Gordon! Can we…s-stop for a m-moment?" The eleven year old bent over, gasping for air as he tried to catch his breath. It seemed to him that they'd been walking for hours, although in reality, according to his watch, he knew it was only half-an-hour.

"No!" His older brother yelled back. "We have to find somewhere to set up the tent, unless you fancy sleeping in just a sleeping bag out in the open?" With a wicked grin, he added: "There are wolves around here, or so I'm told. That guy called Adam in Virgil's class told me that he's seen them from his window. He lives near here."

"You're bluffing." Alan retorted back. "You're just trying to scare me." He couldn't help but cast a nervous glance over his shoulder. The shadows created by the shifting grass suddenly seemed more like shapes, creeping towards him, and he unconsciously quickened his pace, until he was beside Gordon again.

"You okay?" Feeling slightly guilty, Gordon took the backpack from his younger brother, passing him a torch instead. "You know I was only kidding about the wolves, right?"

"Right," Alan agreed determinedly. "Just…that…uh…you know last night, when you fell asleep? I kind of kept researching this place, and there was a guy who got trapped…and then there was a fire, and he died, and apparently if anyone treads here, then um…he supposedly gets taken over by anger, and attempts to kill them….and maybe we should just…"

"Go home?" Gordon finished for him and sighed. "Oh come on, Allie, it'll be fun." He came to a halt, staring over his brother's shoulders.

"What's wrong?" Alan frowned. That was so not my voice. That pretty girl called Lily in my class for Science can never find out…

"I've found a way in. Look – the window's broken. We can climb in. Then we'll find a room, and then I'll set up the tent." He couldn't help but feel sorry for his younger sibling. The kid was only eleven, he had to remind himself. And this was pretty intense. At Alan's age – even though he was damned sure he would never admit it – he'd still been scared of Scott's horror film collection (what he didn't know was that Scott was scared of the films himself).

"What?" Alan asked in disbelief. "Gordy, isn't that illegal or something?"

"No." Gordon told him, rolling his eyes. "It's only illegal if we get caught."

Personally, Alan was pretty certain that wasn't right, and that they were doing something that he had a distinct feeling counted as bad but anyway. Gordon was his older brother, and therefore must know best – it was probably a good thing that the youngest Tracy did not know that the last time his immediate older sibling had been put in charge of walking the family dog, a black Labrador called Skipper, he'd almost lost the poor animal when he caught sight of an ice-cream stand, went running over to it, tripped over a tree root and knocked himself out. That surely did not install confidence.

Jumping up onto the window ledge, Gordon swung his legs round and slipped through the window, landing lightly on the ground. The floor was made from concrete – and mould was growing in the corners, along side several clumps of thick cobwebs. It was slippery with rainwater, and Gordon had to double check his balance for a second, scared that he was going to fall over.

Alan scrambled through the window behind him, and promptly landed on his stomach on the floor, grimacing as the cold water seeped through his hoodie. "Eww, that's gross," He complained, attempting to cuff the liquid away.

Gordon laughed. "You have got a seriously warped sense of balance, Sprout." He commented, holding out a hand to help his brother up. "Okay, so let's camp here."

"Why?" Alan whined. "It's wet." He didn't care that he sounded like a five-year-old, and besides, the steady dripping of the water on the floor was just beginning to creep him out – it sounded waaay to much like footsteps for his liking.

"Yeah, but we'll need fresh air, remember? This is the only open window." Gordon pointed out, turning away to hide his expression. In reality, he wanted to stay by the window so that they could have a quick escape. Despite all his confidence earlier, the only reason he was there was because he knew Virgil would never let him live it down otherwise. Deep down, he longed to be at home, stuffing his face with marshmallows and curled up under the big fluffy tiger-print blanket that they always had each year at Christmas and Halloween. It was carefully transported from Grandma's house to their lounge and then they'd all grab sweets and chocolate after Alan and Gordon had gone trick or treating and watch all of Scott's horror films in a row, under the blanket.

Then their Dad would come in, pretend to be furious that they weren't all in bed and then present them with pizza and then afterwards hot chocolate.

So why the hell had Gordon traded that for this? He guessed that he didn't want to be treated like a kid, and figured this was a way to prove himself.

"Gordy, are we gonna put up the tent?"

"Yeah." He agreed, blinking out of his daydreams.

* * *

"I'm cold." Alan muttered yet again in the short space of five minutes. Gordon shrugged.

"Should've brought a jumper then," He retorted, switching the torch's beam of light to the highest level and smiling as the corridor was illuminated. There were several panels of glass, too murky with dust and mildew to see through, but on the other side, Gordon guessed there was a big room – perhaps it was one of those weird massive halls that old houses had – he'd been learning about them in History recently, and Mr Greneg was very insistent that they should go to a historical house and take a picture for the history projects next term.

 _Well bingo. There you go Sir; I think I've just found one._

Searching for a way in, he turned on the spot upon hearing a yell from behind him, only to find the corridor empty.

"Alan!" He listened for a few moments, only to hear the sound of dripping water…and what sounded eerily like singing. "Alan!" He yelled again. "C'mon kiddo, this isn't funny!"

With a final sorrowful look at the glass panels, he began trekking back down to the corridor, only to have the feeling of dread intensify when he reached their 'campsite' and still had found no sign of his younger brother.

"Well damn." He cursed. "Scott is going to kill me. Only I could manage to lose Alan when he was standing right behind me." He grabbed the backup torch – not being entirely certain when the batteries had been last changed on the one he was currently holding, and the backup one was brand new – and headed back down the corridor, coming to a halt.

The glass panels had disappeared. In their place was a grand staircase, the wooden banisters elaborately carved, but now thick with cobwebs from where many spiders had made their nests. In spite of himself, Gordon grinned. He could just imagine how Virgil must have reacted to the spiders.

"Alan?" He called softly. Okay, he was officially beginning to get worried now. Tapping his watch, he frowned. The time had stopped on it, frozen the moment, well, the second that they had entered the house. The second hand quivered as he slapped the watch, irritated.

The singing he had heard earlier was still audible. It wasn't really singing as such, anyway, more of a wailing. Considering there wasn't anywhere else Alan could have disappeared to, he headed up the staircase.

Something that struck him straight away was that unlike the rest of the house which was dripping wet with water, where rain had leaked through the roof and rotting beams – plus the windows were broken – was that the corridor at the top of the staircase was completely dry, and relatively undamaged. The many spiders webs that had clung to every nook and cranny downstairs and been replaced with a thin layer of dust that coated everything in a pale grey blanket.

The light finally flickered out on the torch and he dropped it, kicking it aside, and flicking on the switch of the backup, not noticing that where he had kicked the torch over the banisters, it was drifting in mid air, defying gravity and all he had ever learnt in his Physics lessons at school.

The corridor seemed well maintained which was weird considering the only people who had been there in the last ten years other than them was their brothers, and some Land Developers from California, who'd been looking to build one of their high-rising skyscrapers such as in New York and Boston. They'd been kicked out before the plans could be drawn up.

Treading lightly along the carpet, the red patterns elaborately woven into it, he kept listening for any sign of his younger brother. He was half-decided about calling out again, but at the same time, he was unnerved by the singing.

The wailing sound was turning into soft sobs, and it was coming from a room on the left. The door was slightly ajar, and Gordon froze. Part of him wanted to run, and yet the voice sounded child-like. Maybe she was lost? He would never walk out on a young and scared child.

Pushing the door open slightly, he stepped into the room, frowning as he realised it was pitch black in there. His hand brushed against something soft, and he yelped, jumping backwards. The lifeless eyes of a doll stared back at him.

He shone the torch around the room. He appeared to be in a nursery. Unlike the corridor, the spiders had taken over here. Dust drenched curtains hung limply from the window, above a bed, where the sheets were covered with forgotten toys.

The soft crying continued, but it appeared to come from all around him.

I am so not scared, he tried to convince himself. It wasn't working.

"Hello?" He called out. The crying grew quieter, and then there was a humming sound coming from the bed. Stepping backwards towards the door, he shone the torch at it, jumping as one of the clockwork toys started moving towards him in a mechanical motion. Blinking, he let out a sigh of relief as realised it was one of the old fashioned wind-up ones.

"I haven't had a visitor in a long time," a quiet voice commented.

"W-what? Where are you?" He stammered. Okay, note to self, never ever tell Virgil about this.

"I am everywhere." The voice, that of a little girl, murmured, before giggling. "Oh alright. I don't want to scare you. You look like the last visitor I had. Two of them. They went running out when they saw me." She sniffed. "It was a shame. All I did was say hello."

"Two visitors?"

"They looked like you. One was blond and quite tall, and then there was a younger one. They went running outside, and sadly the oldest one, the dark haired boy – well he shone his torch in here, and I tried to show him all my toys, but-" She sniffed again. "But he ran off as well."

Gordon raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, you must have met my brothers. They came here two years ago." In some part of his mind, he figured that this couldn't really be happening – ghosts didn't exist.

"Do you promise not to run away?" She asked, in almost a whisper. "Please, don't. I like you."

"I promise," He murmured, staring as a pale figure stepped into the glow of the torch. She had shoulder length blond hair, and a ripped and ragged dirty white dress, that was more of a grey now, that reached her knees. Her skin was almost pale, like everything about her. Gordon blinked, wondering if he talked too loudly she'd dissolve, she looked so fragile.

"Hello," She told him, smiling, and reaching out towards him with one hand. "I'm Lilabeth. Child of Silentwood Manor."

"You…you're a…" He blinked again, rubbing one hand across his face, getting dust in his hair, and then staring at Lilabeth. He could see the other side of the room through her – she was almost translucent…and she was glowing. Of her own accord.

Slowly, he switched off the torch, and gasped. Lilabeth was glowing a pale white light.

She smiled gently at him. "I know I'm not what you expected. But it's been so long since I've seen anyone."

"What happened to you? How come you're still here?" He whispered.

She sighed, curling a strand of hair around her finger as she drifted over to him, and held out her hand, staring with unblinking fawn brown eyes at him. "If you like, I could show you."

He looked down at her hand. "What about my brother?"

She held up one hand and nodded at the door. Gordon jumped as banged shut, before stumbling backwards and trying the handle. The lock came away in his hand – the wood was rotten. He was trapped.

Lilabeth floated down, and sat on the edge of an old rocking chair, one leg crossed neatly over the other. Her feet were bare, with the tiniest of pink nail polish from many years ago.

"Come now, please don't be scared. I don't want to hurt you." She stood up, weaving her way through the broken toys on the floor and standing in front of him.

"But, my brother's younger than me. He'll be scared," He protested. "I've got to find him."

"Oh Gordon, I thought you were different." She sighed.

He frowned as she started singing her long and mournful song yet again. "Wait, how do you know my name?"

The fogginess began to descend, and he shook his head. "What are you doing?"

"I just want a friend," She whispered. "You promised." The fog disappeared as quickly as it had come, and then she descended to the ground.

Gordon glanced down at her. She was a couple of centimetres shorter than him, and yet he felt like he was younger, and inexperienced. It was a bit like when Dad had first taught him how to ride his bike all those years ago, and Mum had laughed, and made them cookies for afterwards, and told him that he was very grown up and brave.

 _Mum…_

"Can you see other…spirits, or ghosts?" He asked Lilabeth.

"Let me show you." She held her hand, offering it to him and nodding.

Gordon let the torch slip from his fingers, and reached out, taking her hand. She smiled, and tossed her hair backwards, as the room turned into a blur, spinning around them.

Then everything went black.

* * *

"Gordon!"

Alan was now, officially, despite not admitting it, freaking out. One moment his brother had been in front of him, and then he had disappeared. Only Alan had seen the shadowy black figure against the glass panels, one hand reaching out to him, and screaming.

So, considering he was only eleven, he'd run.

He'd attempted to retrace his footsteps back to their campsite so he could call Scott. He didn't care how childish Gordon thought him – Alan knew he'd seen the ghostly figure, and then his brother had disappeared – to put it simply, he was scared.

It was silent in the gloomy corridor he was in, apart from his footsteps, and he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. There was a slow groaning sound coming from behind him, and he tripped, stumbling through a broken door, and sliding down a flight of stairs.

He'd lost the torch. It was dark in the room, and he closed his eyes, drawing his knees up to his chest and trying to calm his breathing. God, he hoped it had gone. Please go away. Please…

After what was probably a few minutes, but seemed to Alan like hours, he realised everything was silent apart from his erratic breathing. Sitting up, he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. His hands were throbbing, and on closer inspection he realised that they were bleeding. There were splinters in them from where he'd fallen through the splintered wood where the door had once been.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Gordon would come looking for him at some point, and if he couldn't find him, then he'd call Scotty and Dad, and they'd come and get him. In the meantime, he could try and find a way out of the house. Silentwood Manor wasn't that far from the nearest bus stop, and if he gave the bus driver a wide eyed look, then he was sure he could get a ride. If he ruffled his hair up a bit too, then, even if he would never admit it, he looked pretty adorable.

Standing up, and wincing – he'd grazed his knee – he made his way down the cobblestone path.

He appeared to be in a massive hall – with animals' heads, such as deer and wild cats, adorning the walls. The deers' antlers were covered in cobwebs. Alan blew on one and sneezed as a cloud of dust rose up around him.

At the end of the hall was a large oak door, with bronze patterns surrounding the lock, in the form of a snake's fangs. It looked suspiciously like one of the medieval symbols Virgil had been forced to draw for that Art project three or four years ago.

"Gordy?" He called out softly, in spite of knowing his brother wouldn't reply. He headed towards the door, and kicked it. He was surprised when it opened easily, revealing a little chapel that was joined onto the mansion.

Stepping through into it, he froze, spotting a shadow of a massive black creature behind him. Staring, he remained still, unmoving as he waited to see if he could see it again. Putting it down to his imagination, he continued through the chapel.

Pale light streamed through dusty stained glass windows, casting beautiful shapes and shadows on the floor, in all shades of red, blue, green, pink and orange. He bent down, and ran his fingers along the paving slabs, smiling as the rainbows turned his hand different colours.

There was a tiny wooden altar at the end of the church, but before it were steps leading down to a wooden door. Alan knew that it led down to a secret room, as John called it. There was one at the church where Grandma went.

The wooden door here though was ever so slightly ajar, allowing Alan to see a flickering beam of yellow light, like that of a torch.

"Gordon," He realised aloud, and took off running towards the door. Leaping down the stairs two at a time, he placed his hand against the door and pushed it open. It pushed aside easily, and he entered the room, and instantly had to slam his hand to his mouth to stop himself from screaming.

Five coffins were placed around the room. Normally, they would be covered with a pale white cloth. The clothes lay strewn on the floor, and the coffin lids had burst open, revealing the skeletons that lay inside, gaping sockets filled with shadows, and grinning mouths.

The flickering light came from the end of the room, where there were more shadows. Alan tried his best to ignore the corpses, and walked slowly towards the light.

"Gordon?" He called out. Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind him, and a gust of wind caused by the sudden movement blew out the torchlight as if it were a candle.

Trembling, he stood still, frozen to the spot with fear as he remembered the skeletons. It was black in the darkness, and he couldn't see the door. Stumbling over in the basic direction he'd come from, he clasped the handle with shaking fingers, and tugged at it, trying not to tremble as he realised it was locked.

Then something hooked bony claws onto his shoulders, and tugged him backwards, wrapping an arm around him, and dragging him down towards the floor. Letting out a scream, he kicked out, turning his head slightly to see his captor.

Then he started screaming again – the captor was one of the skeletons – its eyes glowing with a red fire.

* * *

 _ **Okay. How was that? I've got to go out for birthday celebrations now, so no trick-or-treating for me unfortunately…*sobs***_

 _ **Let me know about any mistakes because the person who was supposed to be beta-ing this for me is stuck in London right now, so I've done the best I can. Anyway, let me know and I'll go back and correct them. :)**_

 _ **Have fun and eat lots of candy!**_

 _ **Kat x.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**So, here's Part 2. Thanks for the reviews. :)**_

* * *

"You have done well my child." A woman's voice spoke softly, barely audible. She placed a hand on Lilabeth's cheek, caressing her face. "I love you my daughter. But now you must return. You have left the child wandering around the place – and eleven year olds tend to stick their noses into things that don't concern them."

"I shall not fail you." Lilabeth dipped her head, and knelt into a curtsy. There was a blinding flash of white light, and then the young ghost had disappeared, destined forever to walk the dusted floor-boards of the nursery.

The woman bent over and smiled softly, running a hand through the hair of the young teenager who lay unconscious on the floor. "Come young one, it is time for you to wake now."

Blinking, Gordon frowned up at her, squinting. "You're not Lilabeth," He realised aloud. "You're not my Mum either. Lilabeth lied."

"She was doing her duty to the spirit world. Anyone who enters the house does so at a cost. We try to warn them, by bringing them here. The other spirits and creatures that roam the halls of the mansion are filled with evil and darkness in their hearts."

"Where is here?" Gordon scrambled to his feet as the woman stood aside, revealing a door with light streaming through the gap underneath. A few ants scurried out his way as he opened it, and made his way down the steps, standing on the grass and staring at the scene in front of him.

He was looking at Silentwood Manor, but how it looked hundreds of years before. Young children skipped and laughed outside the cottages of the workers on the land. A beautiful young woman was being helped down off her horse by a servant, dressed in black and white uniform.

There was a little girl smiling and chatting with a serving boy on the steps of the manor.

"Lilabeth! It's time for supper!" A plump woman with rosy red cheeks and black hair scraped back into a bun called out from a window. The little girl leapt up and sprinted back into the house.

Carriages and horses and carts were constantly moving around, and workers were clipping the shrubs and trees back. A few cats flitted back and forth.

Gordon stared at the scene. "Where am I?" He asked, turning round to face the woman. "Who are you?"

"I am Florance. I was once the nursery-maid when Lilabeth was this age," She motioned to the little girl. "You asked Lilabeth to take you to see other spirits, did you not?"

"I didn't mean these ones…" He muttered, sitting down on the stairs and wrapping his arms around his knees. Florance knelt down by him.

"This is all Lilabeth knew before she died. Her entire life was spent here. The furthest she strayed from this mansion was to go to Little Tommy's - the serving boy's - house, which was by the river over there. You can see it now. It is less than half a mile from this very spot."

"I guess…I thought she could show me my Mum," he admitted.

"That is beyond my power. We cannot stray further from these spots as we were cursed to walk the boundary between the spirit world and earth forever."

"You have to send me back!" he yelled, jumping to his feet. "I need to find my brother."

"That is a bad decision. The creatures of evil will hunt any mortal that dares set foot in that place as it is in present times."

"Please?" he whispered. Florance stood up and smiled.

"Perhaps this is all just a dream. Who knows?" She whispered.

Gordon frowned. "Right, I'm outta here." Turning, he headed for the mansion, only to have Florance grab his arm to stop him. Slipping, the world turned to slow motion as he found himself falling yet again.

Everything was dark and cold. He reached out and his fingers met with a familiar object. He switched on the torch, and came face to face with one of the dolls. He was lying on the floor of the nursery where he'd been when he'd left.

Standing up, he pushed the door cautiously, surprised when it opened. The lock was intact once more – and yet he distinctly remembered it breaking away in his hand. When he glanced down at his palm, there was still the splinter to prove it.

Running down the corridor, he headed for staircase, only to stop and stare in horror. The staircase no longer existed. All that remained was a curled up black and hairy beast. With a rumbling sigh, it stretched and turned a pair of yellow eyes on him.

Skidding to a halt, Gordon found himself frozen to the spot. Next time, he was so not agreeing to Virgil's stupid dares.

The beast yawned, showing wide fangs, before unsheathing several long claws, climbing to its feet and fixing its gaze on him, letting out a low growl and padding towards him.

Gordon gave it a cautious smile, before turning and sprinting as fast as he could in the opposite direction. There was another door and, grabbing the handle, he yanked it open, tumbling through.

Outside, he heard the scraping of the beast's talons raking through the wood of the door. The wood on Gordon's side was beginning to splinter as the door gave way. He clambered to his feet, flashing the torch around him, and catching sight of a staircase leading downstairs.

Flinging himself at it, he scrambled down the stairs, but they were slippery with mildew and slime, and he slipped, plummeting downwards. The torch slipped from his fingers, and he made to grab it, succeeding, but resulting in crashing heavily into the ground at the bottom of the stairs.

Pain shot up from his knee. Looking down at the ground, shining the torchlight at it, he discovered there were tiny pieces of fractured glass. His knee was bleeding, he realised.

At the top of the stairs, the beast growled and hissed before leaping down them, two at a time.

Gordon leapt up, and started sprinting again.

* * *

Alan blinked in the darkness. Beside his knee the torch lay, the switch flicked off. Turning it on, he sat up and winced, holding a hand to his head. The skeletons appeared to have disappeared.

When the skeleton had grabbed him, he'd fought back wildly, acting on pure instinct, and had fallen, smashing his head against the stone floor and losing consciousness. Now his head was throbbing, and he couldn't see any skeletons.

Slowly getting to his feet, he gave one last look at the back of the room, sighing as he realised that his brother really was nowhere to be seen. He had no idea how long he'd been unconscious, but the fact Gordon hadn't come looking for him hurt, although Alan suspected his brother was in trouble.

Limping up the stairs, he tried the door, remembering it had been locked. To his complete surprise, the door opened easily and he closed it behind him, emerging out into the chapel. There was no light streaming through the windows now – it was dark outside – and Alan figured, especially considering he was tired, that it was some time late at night.

"Not long now until morning," he tried to convince himself aloud, retracing his footsteps. Eventually reaching the corridor, he stared at the glass panels that had reappeared, and then thought back to the figure screaming that he had seen before.

Not screaming, he realised, but warning him. Or maybe warning Gordon? He shivered – he really needed to stop watching John's crime DVDs.

Heading back down the corridor, limping again as the stone in his trainer dug into his foot, he came across the tent. It was in darkness, apart from the moonlight shining through the fractured glass of the broken window.

"Gordon?" he called out, knowing there would be no reply. Ducking down, he scrambled into the tent, and closed the 'door' behind him, zipping it shut. The backpacks with food and sleeping bags, and the extra blankets were still in the corner of the tent, and he scrambled over to them, burying himself beneath the blankets and sleeping bags, before closing his eyes.

When he awoke it was cold and the moonlight was gone. At first he figured it had disappeared behind a cloud, but then he heard a familiar rumble of thunder and lightning lit up the sky.

Pulling the blankets further round him, he cautiously raised his head up, looking around the tent. His torch lay by the exit where he'd left it. Remembering the mobile, he opened one of the backpacks, and rifled through the contents. There was a chocolate bar, and he ripped it open. He wasn't sure what time it was, but he was hungry.

The mobile was right at the bottom of the bag, and Alan grabbed it, swiping across the screen and entering his brother's password. He knew all of his siblings' passwords – being the youngest, it was often useful to have blackmail material readily available.

Frowning, he felt the by now familiar sensation of fear creeping up his spine, as he discovered there was no connection. The tent was right by a window. He knew there should be a connection.

He shivered. Every instinct he possessed was yelling at him to get off the property and to get as far away as possible, but he refused to leave his older brother. But what if he went and got help? Scotty and Dad would fix things – as they always did.

There was a low scratching sound outside the tent, like metal scraping against metal. At first he didn't notice it, too busy trying to get a connection on the mobile, but then there was the sensation of a wave of heat from outside the tent, and he stopped what he was doing.

He had his back to whatever it was. Part of him was telling him to turn around, and the other half was causing him to stay frozen to the spot. The heat was getting unbearable, and he let out a strangled sob. He hated this. All he had ever wanted was to have fun with his brother and to see Virgil's face when Gordon won the bet. He'd never expected the house to be genuinely haunted.

Closing his eyes, he tried desperately to calm his frantic breathing. He'd read somewhere, or seen on TV, that evil things live off fear, and ghosts and spirits get the energy and power through children. No wonder he was seeing so many things.

There was another wave of heat, and he slowly began to bury himself under the blankets, where he stayed absolutely still. Part of the stillness was instinct, and the other was that he was almost paralysed with fear.

The thing, whatever it was, poked him through the tent wall and the blankets, making a low grunting sound. Alan tried to move, only to find that he couldn't – whether he was just too scared, or the thing, the demon outside the tent, had some sort of power to keep him trapped, he didn't know, but he closed his eyes, and thought desperately of someone who could help him.

"Mum," He whispered, trying not to cry. Then a soft glowing light appeared. Blinking, he stayed still as the light drove away whatever the thing was. The heat withdrew, and he'd never been so glad to feel cold.

After staying still for a couple more moments, he'd made up his mind. Grabbing one of the backpacks, he left half the food in case Gordon did turn up, but took the mobile, some chocolate, a sleeping bag, his torch and a water bottle. Stuffing them in the backpack, he unzipped the tent, didn't look at where it had been, but instead leapt for the window, pulling himself up, and tumbling out. The backpack on his shoulders, he sprinted as fast as he could away from the house and towards the road, not looking back.

When he had passed the gates and had run a little way down the road towards the bus stop, he slowed down and turned to look back. He couldn't help the tears pricking the back of his eyes now.

"I'm sorry Gordy," he whispered. "I'm sorry, but I can't stay there. I have to find Scotty and Dad."

Then he took off running again.

Once he had reached the bus stop he took out the mobile and smiled as he discovered there was a connection here. Pressing the call button, he tapped on his brother's contact.

"Hello, Gordon?"

"Scotty!" he yelled into the phone, his voice choked with emotion. "It's Alan. Please, you have to come here now…there was skeletons, and ghosts, and then something hot tried to kill me and Scotty, I'm scared…and…"

"Whoa, okay Sprout. It's alright. I'm coming right now to get you. I'm in the car alright. I've got the phone on speaker so you can still talk to me. Whereabouts are you? Get out of the house right now."

"I already did," Alan whispered. "I'm at the bus stop. Please hurry up. I left Gordy behind…I'm sorry Scotty! I know I shouldn't have, but I was scared, and…"

"Allie, I told you to get out of the house didn't I? Its okay, you did good kiddo. I'm nearly there, so look out for the lights of the car, okay? Dad's had to stay behind, because Virgil's asleep as is John, but I'm here. Just keep talking to me."

"Okay."

"Talk to me about something other than the house. What's happened at school recently? Virgil told me you've got your eye on some girl called Lily. What's she like?"

Alan blinked back his tears, looking up at the starry sky above him. The strange thing was that the storm was only above the house. He hoped Gordon was okay.

"Allie? Tell me about Lily."

He nodded, before realising his brother couldn't see him. "Well," he began.

* * *

"Alan! Where are you?" Gordon yelled. He was now in full blown panic mode. He should never have brought his younger brother, he knew that now. It had taken ages to persuade Scott and his brother was still furious.

His footsteps were echoing too loudly, he knew that. The beast, creature, It, whatever it was, was still stalking him. He felt uncannily like a deer being hunted, or maybe a fish being followed by a shark. It was terrifying, and now he didn't care anymore. He'd admitted to himself that he was scared and now he was terrified. So what if he was fourteen? That was still young.

He had to find the campsite. Alan was a smart kid – if he was lost, then that was where he would head for. Gordon had got lost himself though, and all he could see were shapes and figures swirling in the corridors. All he could hear was the panting of the beast behind him.

His knee was killing him. Not literally, obviously, but it was throbbing painfully. He was in good shape – and it helped that he went swimming at least twice a week – but no one could keep running, let alone sprinting, for too long.

He had a stitch. The pain was curling its way round his rib cage teasingly. He needed to stop and catch his breath. His vision was blurring slightly as he continued running, before bursting into a room and recognising the glass panels. He was inside the first room he'd seen when Alan had disappeared.

The door slammed behind him.

"Alan!" He shouted desperately. There was no reply. He spun round on the spot, knowing without trying that the door was now locked.

Upstairs, Lilabeth's frantic giggling echoed down. The fire that had originally burnt the house, killing so many who now walked its corridors, cursed to remain for eternity, was back. The flames licked at the nursery walls, and she tossed her hair back.

"You should have stayed with Florance," she whispered, thinking of the copper-haired teenager trapped in the room below her. The fire spread quickly.

Gordon smelt the smoke quickly. Slamming against the door, he recognised the amber flickering glow and felt something akin to panic crawl up his spine.

The torch light flickered out and died, just as he caught sight of a black figure creeping towards him. Backing away, he crashed into a row of tables, and let out a choked cry as he spotted the skeleton resting on top of them.

Crashing to the floor, he closed his eyes, trying not to scream.

The fire flickered at the door.

Lilabeth danced through the flames.

* * *

Alan had never been so relieved to see the familiar blue car, the headlights illuminating the road. Leaping up, he dropped the backpack and ran down the road, as Scott jumped out the car. Crashing straight into his brother, he hugged him desperately, not letting go as Scott lifted him up and carried him back to the car.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Alan, it's my fault, I shouldn't have let the pair of you go," Scott told him, before slamming down on the brakes. "Oh my god," He whispered.

Curled up on the passenger seat, Alan sat up, and stared with wide eyes at the burning mansion in front of him.

"Gordon."

* * *

"Gordon!"

Gordon coughed, and then sat up. The thick smoke filling the room made it hard to see, and his ears were ringing, but he could have sworn he'd just heard Scott.

"Gordy! Where are you kiddo?"

The ash had stained his t-shirt black. He pressed his hands against the glass panels, and spotted Alan.

"Alan!" He yelled, and guessed Scott was nearby, "Help!"

* * *

The black figure screaming for help earlier, Alan remembered as Scott yelled for Gordon.

The skeletons had gone, like it had never happened. But that was wrong. It had happened as he had ended up travelling back in time to before it had happened, allowing him to escape.

So different parts of the house were in different time zones? Do the maths, he figured.

"Scotty! I know where Gords is!" he yelled, and sprinted down the corridor as fast as possible, Scott behind him. The heat from the fire…he remembered the beast by the tent. It had been a warning.

"Gordon!"

"Gordy, where are you kiddo?"

Alan pointed towards the glass panels. "He's in there. I know. Trust me."

Scott didn't question his younger brother. It was as good a guess as any. There was a fractured glass panel, and with a well aimed kick, the glass shattered. Climbing through, he landed on the floor, and then spotted his brother.

"Gordon?" He called. The smoke was thick in the room, and the younger Tracy was unconscious. Lifting his younger sibling up, he headed back through the glass panel.

"Alan, we are leaving right now," he shouted. Sprinting while holding an unconscious younger brother was not the easiest of things, he realised. Alan practically leapt out of the window, wide eyed as he stared at his brothers.

"Scotty, is he okay?" he gasped. "Is he dead?"

"He's gonna be fine, Sprout," Scott promised him, inwardly panicking. He should have been quicker.

* * *

"Is he waking up?"

"I think so. Should I go and get Scotty?"

"Um…Yeah, sure."

The voices sounded distant, like they were speaking from behind a wall on the other side of the courtyard at school. Why couldn't he hear what they were saying properly?

The bright lights blinded Gordon the moment he opened his eyes, and after a while of frantic blinking he was finally able to work out who the figure leaning against the end of his bed was, silhouetted against the glowing lamp.

"Virg?"

"Hey Fish. Good sleep?"

"What happened?"

He groaned, wincing. Damn, he hated headaches.

"You don't remember?"

He shook his head, and regretted it instantly, greeted with a worried frown. Oh, so now Virgil cared? After he sent him into a house with a bunch of creepy ghosts trying to kill Alan- wait…

"What happened to Allie?" Scrambling upright, he considered jumping out of the bed and heading straight back to the mansion had it not been for the blond figure that entered the room at that moment and grinned.

"Gordon! You're okay!"

"Yeah, I guess." He cast a questioning glance at Virgil again, an attempt to signal 'what happened to me and why did Alan think I wasn't going to be okay?' Nah, as usual, Virgil wasn't a mind-reader. John was. Where was John? And Scott? Unusual for the two smother-hens not to be there if he'd hurt himself or got into some sort of trouble. Like that last time when he fell out of the tree-house during the summer break.

Virgil finally got the hint and stood up. "Um, I thought you were going to get Scott?"

"Oh Yeah! I knew I meant to go and do something!" Sprinting out of the room, Alan disappeared into the lounge where voices could be heard, just about avoiding crashing into the doorframe.

"So what's happened?"

"How much do you remember?" Virgil retorted.

"Up until there something chasing me. And there was some sort of little girl…she said she'd seen you and Johnny before. She took me somewhere…" Gordon frowned, shaking his head. "Nah, that just sounds stupid. No one would believe me."

"I believe you, honest."

He glanced up. Virgil, for once, was being totally serious. First time in a while that they'd actually had a proper conversation without yelling at each other. Personality clashes mostly. He was hyper, the trickster, and Virgil was the peace-maker most of the time, the one who actually did all the homework and got straight A's in most subjects.

Maybe that was why Gordon figured that this was the one brother he could tell the whole story to, because Virgil wouldn't tell anyone else. He could bet on that.

"Was there a fire? I can remember smoke…but nothing else. The girl…Lilabeth…she took me…to the same place, Silentwood Manor…but it was-"

"Back in time," Virgil finished for him.

Gordon stared back in disbelief. "How do you even know that?"

"Why do you think me and John got so freaked out? It happened to us, and we just…I dunno. That thing does scare you, right? We ran outside, and there was something else following us. Like some sort of demon big cat thing."

"Same. But I thought Scott stayed behind when you were there?"

"He did. You know how Alan found you when he rang Scooter? He saw you earlier, when you were exploring a corridor or something. He saw you in the room where the fire was."

"That's not possible." Gordon sat back, and crossed his arms, feeling a little bit like a sulking five year old. Virgil shrugged, sitting on the end of the bed as he got tired of standing up.

"Believe what you want, but it's true. What you don't know, what I should have told you, but my stupid pride got in the way over that bet, is that there's some sort of weird time difference in the manor. Scott said he came out five minutes after us. He told John that he'd felt some sort of hot creature tap him on the back or something, and he couldn't move. So the moment it was gone, he ran. His watch said that he had run out five minutes after us. Everything he said added up, apart from one thing."

"What?" Gordon leaned forwards. "Virg. What happened to Scott?"

"We didn't tell him. Scott said he came out five minutes after us. But we'd be waiting by the car for the whole night for him to turn up."

"But…there's no such thing as ghosts…"

Virgil stood up again, glancing out of the window. It was dark outside. He looked back at Gordon, frowning. "Are you sure about that?"

* * *

 ** _And that's the end of my Halloween fic for this year! What did you think? I know - I'm no good at writing scary stuff, but let me know what you thought. That little review button won't take long to press. ;)_**

 ** _Kat xx._**


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